Edward's Dissatisfaction

"And then?" Fisher asked. "Build one to fight twelve? I want numerical superiority! A two-power standard! The Royal Navy must be at least equal to the combined strength of the world's second and third strongest navies!"

He returned to his desk, grabbed the phone: "Connect to the Prime Minister's residence. Yes, now. Tell Mr. Campbell-Bannaman I need to see him within half an hour."

While waiting for the call to connect, he said to Watts, "I need a report, by noon tomorrow at the latest. It should detail the budget, the timeframe, and the impact on existing shipbuilding programs if we immediately launch a construction program for six dreadnoughts."

"Six ships at the same time?" Watts was shocked.

"Six is ​​the minimum!" Fisher roared. "The Germans have six, we need twelve! It's math, Philip! Simple math!"

The call connected. Fisher picked up the receiver: "Your Excellency, this is Fisher. I apologize for disturbing you so late, but I need to convene an emergency wartime cabinet meeting immediately. Yes, tonight. Why? The Germans have just unveiled six new battleships that we know nothing about, and the Royal Navy is completely unprepared for them. I believe this is the most serious national security threat since the Napoleonic Wars."

After hanging up the phone, the office was deathly silent.

Hall asked cautiously, "Sir, do you really think the Germans will...?"

"I don't know if the Germans will go to war," Fisher interrupted him, "but I do know that when you see your opponent at the poker table show a trump card and you only have a weak hand, you have to assume he's ready to empty your stack."

He walked to the window and gazed at the London nightscape. The lights on the Thames were reflected on the dark water like a luminous snake. For three hundred years, this river had witnessed countless fleets setting sail and returning, and countless empires rising and falling.

"Hall".

"Yes, sir."

"Activate all intelligence networks for Project Deep Blue." Fisher didn't turn around. "I need to know where these ships were built, who designed them, and what technologies were used. In particular..." He turned, his eyes sharp as knives, "I need to know if the Germans have any allies. Are there any other countries building similar ships?"

"You suspect..."

"I doubt everything," Fisher said. "Six warships couldn't have appeared out of thin air. There must be something we've overlooked. Find it."

"Yes, sir."

After Hall saluted and left, Watts remained in the office.

"John," Watts addressed him personally, "do you really think the situation is that bad?"

Fisher sat back in his chair, suddenly looking exhausted.

"Philip, how many warships have you designed?"

"Twenty-seven capital ships, from the 'Sovereign' class to the 'Dreadnought'."

"What do you think of the 'Intrepid' compared to these German ships?" Fisher asked, pointing to the photograph.

Watts remained silent for a long time before finally answering honestly: "If the parameters are accurate... the 'Dreadnought' is not outdated in design. But the Germans are already in service, while we're still on the slipway. The time difference is at least ten months. In a naval race, twelve months is enough to decide the outcome."

"So we have to chase them." Fisher rubbed his temples. "Double the speed, triple the budget, chase them at all costs. Because if we can't catch them..."

He didn't finish speaking, but Watts understood.

If they fail to catch up, the Royal Navy's global hegemony, which has lasted for three hundred years, may come to an end in their generation.

And they will become sinners in history.

The nautical clock on the wall struck ten. The chimes echoed in the silent office, like a death knell or a war drum.

Fisher stood up and picked up his military cap.

"Go, Philip. Go and make sure the Prime Minister and the cabinet men understand that they either approve the largest naval budget in history or prepare to attend the funeral of the British Empire."

As he left the office, Fisher took one last look at the photograph on the table.

The silhouette of the Westfallen gleamed coldly under the lights, its five turrets like five eyes, indifferently watching the world it was about to change.

Fisher gently closed the door, leaving the steel ghost in the darkness.

But everyone present knew that from this day forward, that specter would forever haunt the Royal Navy, haunting the nightmares of every naval officer.

Until someone builds a bigger, faster, and stronger ship and sinks it.

Buckingham Palace, the King's Study

The front page of The Times was slammed onto the Persian carpet, the pages scattered, the huge, bold headline particularly glaring:

"The Steel Ghost of Germany: Six Mysterious Warships Pass Through the Suez Canal"

King Edward VII stood before his desk, his face flushed, his thick fingers pointing at the newspaper on the floor: "This is an insult! A blatant insult!"

Lord Selburn, the First Lord of the Navy, stood to the side, bowing slightly: "Your Majesty, please calm your anger..."

"Calm down?" Edward VII turned around, his obese body trembling with rage. "That arrogant little William! If his father—my dear brother-in-law Frederick—were still alive, he would never have allowed him to provoke us like this!"

The King walked to the window, gazing at the gardens outside the palace, his voice stung by the bitterness of family feuds: "Last year in Coburg, in front of a room full of European royalty, he spoke at length about Germany's 'land under the sun.' I told him that the territory of the British Empire isn't bread on a table, to be cut into pieces at will. And now? He's responding to me with warships!"

Count Selborne carefully chose his words: "Your Majesty, this is primarily a matter of naval technology. The Germans seem to have built a new generation of battleships, and our intelligence system... has completely missed them."

"You missed them?" The King turned around abruptly. "Six! Twenty-thousand-ton ships! This isn't just missing one cruiser, it's missing six capital ships! Has the Royal Navy gone blind?"

There was a gentle knock on the study door.

"Come in!"

Prime Minister Sir Henry Campbell-Bannaman entered, followed by Foreign Secretary Lord Langston. Both men looked grim.

"Your Majesty," the Prime Minister bowed slightly, "Lord Fisher of the Admiralty requests an urgent audience; he brings more detailed intelligence."

"Let him in!" The king sat back in his high-backed chair, tapping his fingers on the armrest. "Everyone, listen to what's wrong with our navy."

Lord John Fisher strode into the study, his military uniform impeccably tailored, but his eyes bloodshot. He carried a thick folder in his hand.

"Your Majesty, Your Excellency the Prime Minister, and Your Excellencies," Fischer's voice was crisp and clear, like a cannonball exploding, "I'll get to the point: the Germans have achieved a technological breakthrough, and we are at least eighteen months behind."

He opened the folder, took out the enlarged photo, and spread it out on the desk.

"This photo was taken yesterday morning in the Suez Canal. Six identical warships, named the 'Westvale' class. According to preliminary analysis: standard displacement is between 18,000 and 20,000 tons; main armament consists of ten 12-inch 45-caliber guns, mounted in five twin-mounted turrets; propulsion is provided by Parsons steam turbines, with a maximum speed of no less than 21 knots; it adopts a focused protection design, with the main armor belt estimated to be over 11 inches thick."

The study was deathly silent.

Foreign Secretary Lounstown spoke first: "Are you sure it's 12-inch main guns? Our latest Edward VII-class destroyers only have 9.2-inch guns."

"Confirmed." Fisher pointed to the proportion of the gun barrel to the hull in the photo. "The gun barrel is at least 45 feet long. Only the 12-inch class needs such a long barrel to ensure muzzle velocity and range."

Prime Minister Campbell-Banaman rubbed his temples: "What about the cost? A ship like that wouldn't cost less than £1.5 million, would it?"

"We don't know the Germans' cost," Fisher said, "but by our standards, such a ship would cost between 1.8 million and 2 million pounds. Six ships... that's 12 million pounds."

Count Selborn gasped: "What was the German Navy's total budget last year?"

"Eight and a half million pounds," Fisher stated the figure precisely. "So either they diverted funds from other branches of the military, or... they have some source of funding that we don't know about."

Edward VII stared at the photograph and suddenly asked, "Fischer, three years ago you showed me a memorandum about the concept of 'all-heavy-gun warships.' Are these German ships based on that concept?"

"Indeed, Your Majesty." Fisher's expression was complex, a mixture of bitterness at the confirmation of his prediction and anxiety about the backward reality. "In 1903, I proposed that future battleships should abolish mixed-caliber main guns and unify them into large-caliber main guns, coupled with a central fire control system, to conduct salvos at long range. However, the Naval Committee believed that the technology was not mature enough and the budget did not allow it."

"So the Germans have realized your vision," the king's voice was as cold as ice, "using our concepts to build ships that are more advanced than ours."

The atmosphere in the study was heavy.

The Marquis of Langston broke the silence: "The issue now is not assigning blame, but responding. What are the Germans trying to do? Where are those six ships now?"

Fisher replied, "According to the latest telegram, they have entered the Mediterranean through the canal and are heading northwest. Their destination is likely Gibraltar, and then into the Atlantic. As for what they intend to do…" He paused, "I judge there to be two possibilities: first, to return directly to German North Sea ports as the new core of the High Seas Fleet; second, to conduct a circumnavigation to demonstrate military power, especially to visit overseas strongholds of interest to Germany—such as Morocco."

"Morocco," Langston frowned. "The French are expanding their influence there, and the Germans just protested last month. If six new battleships show up in Casablanca..."

"That's a direct deterrent to France, and a signal to us as well," the Prime Minister continued. "Germany is telling us that they have the capability to project power into the Atlantic and the Mediterranean, and are no longer a second-rate navy blockaded in the Baltic Sea."

Edward VII suddenly laughed, but his laughter was devoid of warmth: "My nephew William... he always loves grand performances. Now that he has a new toy, he certainly can't wait to show it off to the whole world."

He stood up and walked to the map of Europe on the wall.

"Fischer, tell me frankly: if the German fleet and the Royal Navy were to fight a decisive battle in the North Sea right now, today, what would the outcome be?"

All eyes were on the First Sea Minister.

Fisher remained silent for a full ten seconds, then gave the answer that no one wanted to hear but had to face:

"We will win, Your Majesty. But the cost will be at least four to six capital ships sunk, and casualties could exceed five thousand. And that's assuming we can use our numerical superiority to encircle them and force them into close combat. If the Germans use their speed advantage for maneuver warfare..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but his meaning was clear.

"So in reality," the King said slowly, "these six ships have given the German navy a local advantage in the North Sea. Although we still lead in total tonnage, they now have a sharp spearhead that can pierce our formation."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Fisher acknowledged. "And this is only the first batch. If the Germans master this design, the second and third batches will soon follow. By 1908, the balance of power in the North Sea may have been completely reversed."

Count Selborne couldn't help but ask, "How quickly can we build a warship of the same class? What about the 'Dreadnought'?"

"The 'Dreadnought' was only laid down this October, and is expected to be launched in December 1906 and commissioned in early 1907," Fisher said, his pace quickening. "But that's a single ship. What we need is quantity. I suggest that we immediately launch an emergency construction plan for ten Dreadnoughts, while simultaneously suspending all existing modernization programs for pre-Dreadnoughts and concentrating all resources on them."